I haven't worked outside the home in sixteen years. During that time, I took care of my three kids and have become an author (a pretty fine author, if I do say so myself). I love writing and I love being creative. I love being with my kids. So why in the world would I decide to jump back into the workforce? Simple mathematics - money. I like money and I wanted more of it.
I receive royalty checks once every quarter and the money amount varies from "Okay, this is doable and awesome" to "Seriously? That's all? Hmmm... I'm pretty sure I can make more working the fry station at my local fast food joint).
Did I mention I have three kids? Well, those three kids like stuff. They like doing and participating in stuff. And all that stuff takes money. I also wanted to do stuff (like shoe shopping and drinking smoothies everyday....yum, smoothies), but my royalty checks are like this much *puts fingers together for visualization.*
Well, an opportunity to work part-time while my kiddos were in school became available and I was like, why not? Let's do this thing! Let's make money! Cha-ching! *Sings the song, 'Money, Money, Money'* I figured I could work, balance family life and my writing, and everything would be just great.
Then I went to work.
I bought the pants and the shirts and showed up for my first day. It wasn't bad at all. The people were wonderful. The boss seemed great. The job seemed doable, but it turned out to be a little more physical than I'd anticipated. And for a person who spends most of their day on their butt, sitting behind a computer, standing for hours was not something I was used to or had planned on.
After about 4 hours of standing on my feet, my lower back reminded me that I'm no longer in my twenties. My mind thinks I'm young though...I love my mind, that crazy lovable optimistic mind of mine. My body said, WHOA there! You're old. Whatcha doing to me? This sucks!
By the time my shift was done, my back was aching. By evening, I was in near tears (okay, I did cry a little). There was no way I could show up for day two. And honestly, after working one day, even without the back issue, I wasn't sure if working outside the home was for me.
I had doubts going into it but had pushed them aside, determined to give it a try. I wouldn't know for certain unless I tried, right?
Last night, I realized that you know what, being poor is okay. I'm okay not having new shoes and drinking smoothies on a daily basis. I'm fine, and cutting back on spending is doable. I'll stop fighting my husband on that issue--I'll be thrifty, Dear Husband. I will! You win! (He doesn't read my blog, so the last couple of sentences don't really have to be taken seriously).
What I did learn from my one day on the job was this: I love writing and I love being at home with my family. I love it a lot. I needed to go out into the world and experience it for myself to know that what I had going on was a good thing. Maybe I'll be stuck with our old couches for another year or two. Maybe I can't go out to eat all the time or buy whatever I want whenever I want. But you know what, I love what I'm doing and there's no price that can be put on that.
Have you ever quit a job after only one day? What was the shortest amount of time you've worked before quitting? I'd love to hear your stories (it'll make me feel better).
I receive royalty checks once every quarter and the money amount varies from "Okay, this is doable and awesome" to "Seriously? That's all? Hmmm... I'm pretty sure I can make more working the fry station at my local fast food joint).
Did I mention I have three kids? Well, those three kids like stuff. They like doing and participating in stuff. And all that stuff takes money. I also wanted to do stuff (like shoe shopping and drinking smoothies everyday....yum, smoothies), but my royalty checks are like this much *puts fingers together for visualization.*
Well, an opportunity to work part-time while my kiddos were in school became available and I was like, why not? Let's do this thing! Let's make money! Cha-ching! *Sings the song, 'Money, Money, Money'* I figured I could work, balance family life and my writing, and everything would be just great.
Then I went to work.
I bought the pants and the shirts and showed up for my first day. It wasn't bad at all. The people were wonderful. The boss seemed great. The job seemed doable, but it turned out to be a little more physical than I'd anticipated. And for a person who spends most of their day on their butt, sitting behind a computer, standing for hours was not something I was used to or had planned on.
After about 4 hours of standing on my feet, my lower back reminded me that I'm no longer in my twenties. My mind thinks I'm young though...I love my mind, that crazy lovable optimistic mind of mine. My body said, WHOA there! You're old. Whatcha doing to me? This sucks!
By the time my shift was done, my back was aching. By evening, I was in near tears (okay, I did cry a little). There was no way I could show up for day two. And honestly, after working one day, even without the back issue, I wasn't sure if working outside the home was for me.
I had doubts going into it but had pushed them aside, determined to give it a try. I wouldn't know for certain unless I tried, right?
Last night, I realized that you know what, being poor is okay. I'm okay not having new shoes and drinking smoothies on a daily basis. I'm fine, and cutting back on spending is doable. I'll stop fighting my husband on that issue--I'll be thrifty, Dear Husband. I will! You win! (He doesn't read my blog, so the last couple of sentences don't really have to be taken seriously).
What I did learn from my one day on the job was this: I love writing and I love being at home with my family. I love it a lot. I needed to go out into the world and experience it for myself to know that what I had going on was a good thing. Maybe I'll be stuck with our old couches for another year or two. Maybe I can't go out to eat all the time or buy whatever I want whenever I want. But you know what, I love what I'm doing and there's no price that can be put on that.
Have you ever quit a job after only one day? What was the shortest amount of time you've worked before quitting? I'd love to hear your stories (it'll make me feel better).
